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Is She On Drugs?

From WikiMedia. The cheshire cat in Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland drawn by John Tenniel (1820-1914) in the 1866 edition.

An extra room has magically been added to your home overnight. The catch: if you add more than three items to it, it disappears. How do you use it?

First of all, if a new room magically appeared overnight, I would be suspicious. My first instinct would be to blame America or Japan, because whenever something weird happens, they’re the ones to blame.

If I thought that Japan was more to blame, I would first check the room for kinky sex toys or a dildo bar. I would also be extremely disappointed after finding neither were there.

If I thought that America was more to blame, I would check for a dead body and I would sweep that room for surveillance equipment and any planted incriminating evidence. I would also check for Morgan Freeman and be very disappointed by his absence.

I would then have an argument with myself about whether or not the room was really there, and if it had always been there and I’d just forgotten. That would turn into a deep, philosophical and metaphorical argument with myself about falling trees and forests and if I’d managed to forget the room, what else had I forgotten and was I really here or am I just part of somebody else’s dream?

Then Morgan Freeman’s floating head would appear to explain the rules. I like to think I would act casual, but I think I would probably have a heart attack and Morgan Freeman’s floating head would have to perform CPR.

“Ingrid,” Morgan Freeman’s head says after I’d been revived. “You haven’t just uncovered a secret, hidden room created by the NSA to hide the existence of aliens. This is a normal room. This room is yours. A gift. But there are rules…”

“And a secret handshake?”

“No, there’s no secret handshake. This room is yours to do whatever you want with but on one condition…”

“I have to give you my firstborn son?”

“I don’t want your firstborn son, Ingrid.”

“That’s good because I don’t have one of those. I can give you one of my cats.”

“I don’t want one of your cats either.”

“I guess you probably have enough since you created them in the first place.”

“I’m not God, Ingrid.”

“Really? Because in that movie…”

“The rule is simple. You can use that room for anything you like and have it as long as you like. But you can only fill the room with three items, no more. Any more than three and the room disappears. Do you understand?”

“Well clearly I can’t use the room for anything I like if I can only have three things in it. What if I wanted to start a meth lab? What if I wanted to throw a party in it? Are people items? Are clothes items? If I’m one item, and my shirt and pants make up three items, does that mean only I can be in the room? If a tree grew in the room would the leaves be counted as one single item, or lots of little items? If the tree fell and I wasn’t there because I couldn’t get into the room because it’s more than three items, would I still hear it? Morgan? Where did you go?”

Yes, I’m annoying.

With Morgan Freeman’s helpful head gone, I’m left with just the room. It’s white, because I’m imaginative like that and it has windows, because rooms have windows. It’s a normal, run of the mill, non-magical looking room.

After staring at it for awhile, I decide that rules are meant to be broken.

So I gather together all of my cats, food and drink and a bag full of clothes and books and then strap all of it to me…. because if it’s attached to me, it’s all one item, right?

I step into the boring, empty room.

Yeah, not all one item…

The room starts shimmering and waving like it’s about to have a flash-back. It starts moving and I begin stumbling around, trying to hold onto something to keep my balance. As I spin around the room I notice that I can see outside through the shimmering walls.

Then BAM!

The room disappears and I disappear with it, flying through time and space. I start whooping and yelling and bounding around the room as it hurtles amongst the stars. Meteorites flash past, forcing the room to bounce around in their firey wake.

Meanwhile, back on Earth, my neighbour is staring through the window. “Gladys,” he says. “Come here. The neighbour’s gone crazy again.”

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12 thoughts on “Is She On Drugs?”

Do you understand that this was the best read ever? Thank you so much for your amazing imagination and the ability to make it so real for me. I’m in my cubicle laughing hysterically. Every one must be confirming with each other that I am indeed crazy. But I can’t tell them that I’m reading something from Pussyhasfurballs because then they’ll just commit me. Which may not be such a bad thing. Would I get paid disability for that? Thanks for a great start to my Friday. You rock!